Family Ties
by TheMalhamBird
Summary: AU: Dorea and Charlus Potter are still alive when their son and daughter in law were killed. They take in Harry- but he's not their only concern. Desperate to know if the boy they took in really betrayed their other son, the Potters are determined to secure a trial for Sirius. And they aren't the only ones- Arcturus Black is also eager to free his grandson...
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_ _I don't own Harry Potter._

 **Chapter One**

Everyone tells Dorea that once a person had been in Azkaban for a few months, they become unrecognizable. And so she is unprepared for just how painfully familiar Sirius looks when the aurors drag him in to the room and push him roughly in to the seat opposite them, wrenching his arms behind the back of the chair and cuffing them there. She recognises the way he flinches, the way he keeps his head lowered so that his hair falls around his face like a curtain, keeping everyone else out. She recognises the look in his grey eyes when the auror yanks a handful of his hair and jerks his head upright, forcing him to look at her. It's a look of shame and desperation, a look which pleads for help but doesn't expect to receive anything more than a slap in the face. The young man facing her in a visiting cell in Azkaban is very much the boy who sat at her kitchen table the night he ran away from home, apologizing for waking the whole house up and eventually admitting- with a great deal of coaxing- that his mother had used the cruciatus curse on him. The Sirius sitting opposite her now is still the same Sirius she welcomed in to her family five years ago- only this Sirius is shivering violently in thin prison robes, not in a soaked-through school uniform, and this Sirius has killed her son, and Lily, and Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles- only the Sirius from five years ago hadn't been a killer, and he seemed so much like the same person. So lost. So afraid.

"Let go of his hair." She says quietly to the auror. "He can hide behind it if he wants, if he's really so ashamed to face me." The auror lets go, and Sirius' head stays level for a moment, two moments...then he flinches away and lets his chin drop to his chest. The curtain of hair falls back in to place, but that doesn't mean he's guilty. He had hidden the whole time he had been forced to explain which curses had made the various bruises and cuts that Charlus had insisted Sirius let him heal.

Dorea waits. The name Potter, already influential, has doubled in importance since her son and his wife were killed, and her grandson became 'the boy who lived'. She has all the time she wants with Sirius, and so she can afford to spend minuets in silence.

Eventually, Sirius speaks.

His voice is low and rasping, like the sound of dry leaves rustling in the wind. She doesn't know much about care in Azkaban, but she has no doubts that its prisoners are left to go thirsty, and have no one to talk to except themselves. He asks, shoulders tense as if he's expecting a blow: "Is Harry alright?"

He glances up at her through his hair, anxious, and Dorea's heart lifts a little. Because if he had told Voldemort how to get to Harry, he surely wouldn't be asking about the boy's welfare. "Harry is well," she told him.

"Are you sure?" Sirius' voice is quick and nervous, like he still isn't sure he's supposed to speak. "Hagrid...Hagrid said Dumbledore said he had to go to Lily's sister. And I would have taken him but it was Dumbledore's orders, and I- I wondered- if Lily had sent Dumbledore an instruction telling him that if anything happened to her and James Harry had to go and live with her sister, only I'm pretty sure her sister hates her-"

"Harry is with us." Dorea says firmly. "Dumbledore did take him to the muggles- but Minerva McGonagall sent me a heads up and Charlus went straight to the minister to complain. Harry is our grandson and we'll raise him, thank you very much." She pauses. "Once he realised Lily and James weren't coming for him, he started saying "Paf't, Paf't', over and over again, with the occasional 'Mooey' thrown in. I knew if Lily and James were dead, something had to have happened to you...and then the news came in that you had been arrested. For murder. For killing twelve muggles. For the death of Peter Pettigrew. For the _betrayal_ of my son and daughter in law to Voldemort. How on earth was I supposed to explain that to a one year old? Merlin knows, I couldn't explain it to myself. Tell me they're wrong, Sirius. Tell me this has all been a terrible, terrible mistake and I can bring you home again."

Sirius shakes his head. "They're not wrong. Not..not exactly... I...I let down Lily and James. I killed those muggles..." and then, so quiet she could scarcely hear. "I'm sorry, Dorea, I'm so sorry..."

"What happened?" Dorea asks.

Sirius looks up at her, eyes full of guilt. "I was arrogant." He whispered. "I was arrogant enough to believe that I could get the better of Voldemort. If I hadn't switched...If I hadn't persuaded James to change the plan...but it seemed so foolproof. Voldemort would take me, would torture me would kill me and he would gain nothing..."

Dorea feels a shiver run down her spine. "Sirius..." she whispers."Are you telling me that you weren't the secret keeper?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius is silent for a long time. He opens his mouth once, then closes it again, and Dorea's heart begins to sink, as the idea thought that James had lied to her when he reassured her that of course they had chosen the right person- she trusted Sirius, didn't she?-to keep him and Lily safe, becomes more and more absurd. James had never lied to her in his life, and she couldn't bear the thought that he had done so on a matter of such importance- had he not trusted her. Surely her son had trusted her- but he had trusted Sirius, and if James hadn't lied then Sirius had betrayed them and that was worse than the thought of James not trusting her-

"I thought..." Sirius begins to talk slowly. Every word seems to take an enormous effort to say; Sirius seems to be choosing each one carefully. "That...they would be safer...if we bluffed...it had never...never crossed my mind that _he_ was the traitor...I thought...he wasn't _brave_ enough to betray us...after all, I'd been vocal enough about killing the traitor if I ever found out who it was"

The pieces slot in to place suddenly, and Dorea whispers- "Oh _Sirius._ Peter? Peter was the secret keeper?"

Sirius laughs humourlessly. "The worst part of it is- I suspected Remus. My words were aimed at _Remus_...I've let him down as well as James..."

Dorea shakes her head emphatically. "No. No, Siri, you've let no one down. Not Remus- well, perhaps Remus a little. But not James, never James. I'll talk to Crouch; tell him what you've just told me. We'll arrange a trial- veritiserum will prove what you're saying is true, and if Peter really was a death-eater...they'll forgive his death- they'll probably still have you sentenced for the deaths of those muggles, but – I'm sure Charlus can persuade his friends amongst the Wizengamot to show leniency- to make allowances for grief-"

She trails off, noticing that Sirius is staring at her with a queer expression. "What?" she asks quietly. He looks half amused, half horrified, as he says-

"I didn't _kill_ those muggles. Peter did"

Dorea is stunned. "You-what?"

"Peter blew the street up. Then he cut his finger off and transformed in to a rat-"

"Sirius Orion Black."

He shrinks back at her quiet, deadly tone. "Are you telling me that you have been sitting in Azkaban for three months, without having committed _any_ of the charges laid against you?" she enquires, voice dangerously soft. Sirius blushes- a splash of colour brought back to his face finally- "Did you not _think_ to tell someone all this when you were _questioned_ -"

"I don't remember being questioned..." Siri interrupts, a confused look clouding his eyes. "I don't...remember questioning...I remember-one of the aurors slapping me when I asked...I think I asked...to see you and ..."

Dorea goes cold suddenly, her annoyance forgotten in light of this new revelation. If Sirius doesn't remember being questioned, it would imply he wasn't- which would explain why the Department for Magical Law Enforcement had been so cagey when Charlus had asked for the transcripts of Sirius' interrogation- there weren't any. "Sirius..." she says softly, reaching out for him-

"NO TOUCHING" the auror behind him barks. Sirius flinches and Dorea jumps as well, having forgotten the man was there. He's six foot tall and burley- but Sirius is her son, the only one she has left, and so-

"Sod you." Dorea snaps back, leaning forward and caressing Sirius's cheek. He offers her a shaky, tentative smile- and then the auror yanks him roughly by the shoulder and shoves him to one side. The chair he's cuffed to looses it's balance and topples over, there's a crash and a sickening crack as Sirius hits the floor, and his wand arm slams in to the concrete floor, the weight of the chair and Sirius himself crashing down on top of it. He barely whimpers, and Dorea is on her feet, fury welling up inside her chest.

"How dare you!" she cries. "How dare you? Have you not been listening-"

"He's a liar, ma'am." The auror says. "All members if the house of Black are liars and dark magic users. Now-"he raises his wand, pointing it directly at her. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Dorea pulls herself up to her full height, which is, admittedly, not very high- but the full force of her glare more than makes up for it. "I'll leave." She sniffs. "I have a trial to arrange for my son, after all. And when he's found innocent, you may rest assured that I will sue the wand off you, and any of your colleagues who have abused my son in any way. Sirius- I love you, and I promise: I'll have you out of this place as soon as I can."


	3. Chapter 3

The auror escorts her out of the prison, leaving his comrade to return Sirius to his cell. They walk in total silence after Dorea ignores the man's efforts to make polite conversation and detract from the ugliness of what she has just seen. As they reach the floo point, and Dorea senses that the man has grown steadily more embarrassed, she stops suddenly and turns to him. "Do you regularly stand guard over Sirius?"

The auror shifts and looks uncomfortable. "Ma'am, I'm sorry about the incident in the visitors' room, and contact between prisoners and visitors is disallowed-"

"That wasn't what I asked." Dorea says sharply, her eyes boring in to the man. He flushes, and says: "Black is a high-security prisoner. The dementors take care of that lot, but visitors aren't exposed to the things."

Dorea nods, once. "I see." She pauses. "If you've never met Sirius before, why would you assume he's a liar? Is it not conceivable that the government, hard pressed in times of trouble such as the period we have just come out of, might have made a mistake?"

The auror concedes that it was possible- "But you can't trust them. The Blacks. Everyone knows that family is one of the darkest-"

"I am a Black, through birth." Dorea says softly, pointedly. The man swallows, and Dorea continues: "The family is not dark, per se- but we have an _inclination_ , shall I say? - To destroy protect our own. Many of my relatives interpret that inclination to protect as destroying anything that would damage the sanctity of their pure-blood line. I interpret that inclination to protect as an iron will to destroy anything that hurts my children. Do you follow me, young man? What you did Sirius will come back to haunt you. I promise."

She steps in to the fire, takes a handful of green powder and has vanished before the auror can respond. She reappears in the fire of her own living room to gurgles of delight from her grandson, who cheerfully shrieks "Grama woosh!" as he knocks down the blocks that were carefully stacked in the middle of the room and holds his arms out towards her for a cuddle. Charlus sighs dejectedly and begins to rebuild the pile. "I bought those for Harry to play with, not you." Dorea scolds her husband lightly as she picks her grandson up.

"That's the fourth time he's knocked them down in five minutes." Charlus grumbles, a tone completely at odds with the adoring glance he sends Harry's way. Dorea laughs.

"And what did you expect, dearest? James was forever knocking things down when he was little." Charlus' expression falters a little, and Dorea sighs inwardly. She suspects that if it weren't for Harry, the loss of James and Lily, and Sirius' subsequent arrest and imprisonment without a trial, would have driven the man to lock himself in his study and work himself to death-but having his grandson permanently has given him a reason to _want_ to keep on living, and Dorea will be eternally grateful to Minerva for forewarning her about Dumbledore's plans to squirrel Harry away. She plants a kiss on the little boy's head, then holds him at arm's length. "Are you ruining Granda's towers? Are you?"

He giggles, grinning at her, and Dorea laughs. "Clever boy." She tells him.

"Humph!" Charlus snorts indignantly. He eases himself off the floor, and comes over to them. "You're a little menace." He tells Harry, before looking at Dorea. There's an enquiry in his eyes, and Dorea nods once, in answer. A slow smile spreads across Charlus' face, and his eyes light up. "I knew it." He whispers. "I knew he couldn't have betrayed them."

"No," Dorea said grimly. "He couldn't- He was never the secret keeper in the first place."

"What-"

'Mina's coming over to babysit Harry at three." Dorea says. "We'll discuss everything then, but we need a serious conversation about it." She glances down at Harry.

"Your Uncle Sirius should be coming home soon." Dorea says softly, smiling. It will be good for Harry to have Sirius back, she thinks- after Lily and James, he was the adult he saw most of in the year of hiding, and besides- the younger wizard will be able to expend far more energy playing with Harry than she or Charlus could, despite their best efforts.

Harry looks up at her, green eyes wide. "Sirus?" he asks. He sounds a little confused, as if he isn't quite sure who that is.

"Padfoot." Charlus tells him, and Harry smiles with delight.

"Paf't." he burbles. "Woof-woof."

The Potters look at each other over his head. "Did you ever work out why he goes 'woof-woof' when Sirius is mentioned?" Charlus asks. It had been puzzling them both since Harry had first started to speak. Dorea shakes her head.

"I assumed it had something to do with that toy Siri gave him. The big black dog that looked like a grim. But heaven knows- in all probability, Siri spent an afternoon or six on all fours pretending to be a puppy."

* * *

Mina rings the doorbell just as the clock starts chiming three, and Dorea opens the door. "As punctual as ever." She comments, and Mina rolls her eyes.

"Don't you start. I've had nothing but teasing all day from Filius and Pomona after I complained about being the only person who ever got to a staff meeting on time. It's not fastidiousness, it's good manners, and if everyone had them the world would be a much happier place." She slings her cloak over the banister, then pauses and looks at Dorea, a hesitant expression on her face. "You said you were going to see Sirius today?" she says softly. "How is he? Did he explain…?" There's dread in her eyes, and Dorea knows that her old friend has been torturing herself over the possibility that one of her most promising student's turned to the dark side because of something she'd done or missed.

"He wasn't responsible." Dorea tells her. "For any of it."

"Merlin's beard!" Mina's hand goes to her mouth. "He's _innocent_?"

"From what he told me. I haven't explained to Charlus fully yet- if you don't mind being left alone with Harry, we're going to spend the evening going through everything and deciding how to proceed next."

"You think he's telling the truth?" Mina asks softly.

"You taught him for seven years, Mina. Do you think he has it in him to betray his friends?"

"Not without a great deal of provocation." She murmurs, then straightens and says more loudly. "I'd never have thought him capable of betraying James." She smiles, changing the subject. "I'd love to have Harry to myself. I've had first and second years all day, and I'm quite sure a one and a bit year old will prove vastly more intelligent by comparison. "

"He's probably more adapt at transfiguration than they are." Dorea agrees. "The blocks Charlus has spent all day trying to get him interested in mysteriously turned in to spheres about ten minutes ago, and rolled about all over the place."

"I received a letter from Lily in March complaining that her hair kept turning blue and she couldn't tell whether to blame Harry or James."

"I think it was six of one, half a dozen of the other. James did it once,, and Harry decided it looked pretty…"

 **A/N Thank you for reading, and thanks to everyone who's left a review/followed/added the story to favourite. It really means a lot.**

 **Next time, Charlus Potter pays a visit to Barty Crouch Senior- and receives help in securing a trial from an unexpected quarter...**


	4. Chapter 4

"Mr Potter. I trust your wife was satisfied by her trip to Azkaban? She found the answers she was looking for?"

"She did. Thank you for allowing it."

Crouch nods briefly and returns to the papers on his desk. Charlus doesn't move. "I asked for a meeting, Bartimus." He says quietly.

"There's more?" Crouch asks, with barely concealed annoyance. "Oh, but let me guess. You would like to visit Black to? Well, I can sort out the paperwork-"

"I don't want to visit Sirius in prison. I want him out of prison and back in my house."

Crouch stops working and looks up, incredulous. "You _what?_ Mr Potter- Black murdered thirteen people with one curse the week he turned your son and daughter in law over to You-Know-Who-"

"No he didn't." Charles said calmly.

It's been a week since Rea's visit to Sirius; a week since she told him what Sirius had told her. Sirius and Peter had switched secret keepers, Sirius went after Peter, and Peter blew the street up himself. It's all very straight forward, and the idea that Sirius had been mad enough to believe he could out-smart Voldemort sat a lot more comfortably with Charlus than the idea that Sirius had been mad enough to join Voldemort. And then there was the other revelation Sirius made- "As far as Sirius recalls, he was never questioned about the events which led to his arrest. On those grounds alone, I can demand a suspension of his sentence."

"No," Crouch snaps. "You can't. Incarceration without a trial is perfectly legal in the case of proven death-eaters sorry Mr Potter; did you say he was sent to Azkaban without _questioning?_ "

Charlus nods and Crouch swears. "Damn it! One of Voldemort's inner circle, and no one's questioned him, the time we could have saved over the last three months with the sort of information he must know-"

"But he doesn't know it, Bartimus." Charlus says calmly. "Sirius was never a death eater."

Crouch's eyes bulge. "Of course he was! He's a Black, isn't he?"

"My wife is a Black through blood." Charlus says mildly, although he begins to tap his fingers on the duelling cane he carries. "I trust you're not accusing her of being a Voldemort supporter."

"Of course not-"

"It's funny. Dorea mentioned that one of the aurors guarding Sirius said that all members of the House of Black were liars. It's curious, don't you think, that society can have such a negative view of a certain house, and tar all its members with the same brush, and no one thinks to challenge the assumption? The fact that Sirius was disowned by his parents and ran away to come and live with James, Dorea and myself doesn't appear to have entered in to any body's equations when it comes to dealing with him- all they see is the last name."

Crouch is staring at him, a bemused expression on his face. "Equations?"

"Merlin's socks, I point out that a last name doesn't automatically make someone a death eater and all you pick up on is the muggle word for sum?" Charlus mutters under his breath. He clears his throat and tries to make his point a little more simply. "Everyone has a negative view of the House Black. I am concerned that such a view has prevented anyone from seriously considering –"he breaks of.

"Mr Potter?" Crouch asks impatiently. "Seriously considering what?"

" _Sirius_ " Charlus mutters. "I don't believe I just did that. Ahem. I am concerned that such a view has prevented ministry officials from looking objectively about Sirius' character as opposed to the character they assume he must have because of his family."

Crouch is looking more than unimpressed. "Mr Potter. I understand that it must be difficult. You take a young tearaway in to your home, you invest time in him and perhaps even a little love- and he repays you by destroying your child.-"

"Sirius is my child." Charlus says quietly, fire in his eyes as he stares at Crouch. "Sirius is every inch _my child_. I celebrated with him when he received straight Os in every O.W.L exam he took. I helped him decide which subjects to drop for N.E. . When I went to Hogwarts to watch the Quidditch matches, I was there for Sirius as much as James, when he pulled pranks in school, it was to me Minerva McGonagall wrote and complained, not to Walduburga and Orion Black- not least because she knew that if Sirius were to get in trouble with his parents over the holidays he would come back half starved and bleeding! Now he told Dorea that he had never been the secret keeper, that a switch took place in an attempt to foil Voldemort should he attempt to kidnap and torture the keeper. I believe him. I don't give a damn whether you do or not, because quite frankly your personal opinion doesn't matter. Under Wizarding Law, even the revised emergency laws, which, incidentally, I believe to be an infringement on the rights a society has to a basic justice system- even under the revised Wizarding law, a suspect has to be questioned before they can be sent to Azkaban and if they aren't, they must be released under bail until they have received a full and fair trial. Was Sirius Orion Black questioned before he was shipped off in to hell, or wasn't he?"

He's breathing heavily by the time he's finished, cheeks flushed with rage. Once, a long time ago, he had dedicated himself to trying to reform Wizarding society. He had given up eventually, and now, he feels, he is being punished for that. If he had managed to make some small difference to the way wizards and witches had thought back then, if he had found a way to force people to be considerate of others, perhaps his son and daughter would still be alive. He pushes that thought aside, and continues to glare at Crouch. "Well? Was he questioned?"

"It was deemed unnecessary."

" _Unnecessary?"_ Charlus roars. Crouch flinches, but he maintains his ground.

"Unnecessary. We already had Black marked for arrest; we had received evidence against him from an infallible source."

"What source?" Charlus ground out.

Crouch remains impassive as he says: "Albus Dumbledore."

Charlus is speechless. Dumbledore, Dumbledore who'd have given his grandchild away to muggles without so much as a consultation with himself and Dorea- Dumbledore _again._ Charlus opens his mouth and closes it, gaping like a fish. He would have continued to remain speechless for quite some time, had someone not articulated his feelings for him.

"Dumbledore?" the disembodied voice from beside Charlus said. "My dear Mister Crouch, as far as _I_ am concerned, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore may go and throw himself head first in to the Black Lake and in to the tender tentacles of the Giant Squid. Hogwarts would undoubtedly be better off, and so would the rest of us."

Crouch springs to his feet in alarm, going for his wand- but it isn't there. Charlus, unable to help himself, begins to chuckle. "Artucus Black." He says. "My old best enemy."

"Best enemy?" Artucus enquires as he materialises languidly in the chair next to Charlus. "I always said we were worst friends."

 **A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed/followed/favourite this story, it means so much.**

 **adenoide** **~Dumbledore still wants Harry to leave with the Dursleys despite Charlus and Dorea being alive because Lily's blood is what contains the protection for Harry. The love protection doesn't work with Charlus and Dorea as they are James' parents, not Lily's- the blood isn't the same. There are other...considerations... of course, but that** _ **is**_ **the main reason.**


	5. Chapter 5

"You would." Charlus says. "You enjoy being difficult."

"Difficult? My dear Charlus, I'm never _difficult_. I just see things differently to other people, that's all."

"That's all? You start to argue against _yourself_ if someone you dislike begins to agree with you-"

"And that is why I was never any good with open politics, unlike you, who was never any good at _any_ politics. Now Mister Crouch," Artucus says, ignoring the indignant look on Charlus' face. "I want it known that I believe Albus Dumbledore to be a first class sanctimonious prat. I also want it known that if a trial is arranged for my grandson for tomorrow, the Magical Law Enforcement Department will receive a generous donation. Enough to give every auror triple their wage ever year for the next ten years. You follow me?"

Crouch goes an odd shade of puce. It's marvellous. "I do not accept bribes, Mr Black!" he splutters.

"No," Artucus says. "You wouldn't. But the minister for magic _does_ , and I always prefer dealing with the very top of the food chain. It's always more efficient." He pulls a letter out from the inside pocket of his jacket, and hands it over. "It's an order for an official trial to take place tomorrow at noon." He explains. "Signed by Bagnold herself- a charming woman, most agreeable- by which I mean to say she's as corrupt as a coin that's had acid poured all over it- stop scowling at me Charlus, it's not my fault people actually _take_ the bribes I offer. They're well within their rights to refuse, as Mr Crouch has just done." Charlus' mouth is set in a disapproving line- Gryffindors and their tiresome morality. Artucus plays within the rules of the game, and if the rules were stringent the game would be far more boring- if less difficult.

Crouch looks as if he's about to vomit. "Well." He says with difficulty. "I suppose I have no other choice but to call a trial. I will arrange for witnesses to be brought in, a defence lawyer-"

"I have a lawyer." Charlus and Artucus both say at exactly the same time. They exchange glances with each other. Charlus looks as if he's about to start arguing over whose they use, so Artucus says-

"They can work together. Cicero's sharp as razors, but she's never done a Wizengamot Case before- I assume you're still using that Empson fellow?"

"Yes." Charlus says. "You want him to brief this Cicero before the trial starts, on protocol, that sort of thing?"

Artucus is a little taken aback- that was exactly what he was going to suggest, and he'd expected Charlus to fight him on it, to demand that _his_ lawyer over see the case. Charlus must have read his expression because he laughs a little. "Empson is a good lawyer. But he could send a house elf ordered to stay awake nodding right off, and he or she wouldn't feel at all guilty for the transgression. The court are going to assume Sirius is guilty. If they fall asleep, that's what they'll find him."

Artucus nods. "Agreed. So. We'll use my lawyer to defend and yours to council. I assume you have no objections to that, Mr Crouch?"

"Would this be Cicero _Black_?" Crouch enquires with a sniff.

Artucus sighs. "No. It would be Rachel Terentia Cicero, descendant of Marcus Tullius and his wife Terentia- who I believe was a squib from a family of squibs distantly related to the House of ...was it Malfoy? Yes, I think it must have been, I remember throwing the squib descendents in Abraxas Malfoy's face when he was being prissy about me kissing one of the boys in Ravenclaw-"

"She's not related to the defendant." Charlus interrupts. "It's perfectly legal for her to defend Sirius."

"Then you had best hope she does it well." Crouch says stiffly "Because if Black is found guilty of thirteen counts of murder, two counts of accessory to murder and the crime of treason, he'll be returned to the dementors for a kiss."


	6. Chapter 6

"Twenty-four hours is not enough time to prepare for a case like this-"

"Exactly. The prosecutors don't have a chance."

"Not just the prosecutors. Us-"

"I've been working towards this since Mr Black was arrested; Artucus wanted a solid defence case prepared before he arranged the trial. Eight times out of ten the courts will decide in the favour of the side which seems more confident, which means any legal case is _at least_ 80% about the posturing, as opposed to the facts-"

"But as far as the Wizengamot are concerned, the _fact is_ that Sirius Black is a death eater and a mass murderer, which means the posturing, is going to have to convince them, first of all, that they should even _bother being prepared_ to change their minds about our defendant."

Cicero nods. "We need someone with a high standing in society to open the case by testifying that it's completely against Sirius' character to have joined Voldemort."

"But whoever it is is going to have to have a weight equal to that of Dumbledore's." Empson pointed out. "After all, the prosecution will play up to the fact the Dumbledore believes him to be guilty."

"Are you asking me to accept that this man is a God, infallible in all respects, incapable of being misinformed? Albus Dumbledore taught the dark lord for seven years and never once suspected his true character- surely it is reasonable to suggest that the esteemed headmaster has misinterpreted my client's character also?" Cicero proclaims. Empson looks at her blankly, and she rolls her eyes.

"Pretend you're the prosecution and come back at me. Dumbledore's testimony is a massive problem; we need to remove him from the equation as far as we possibly can."

"One might say," Empson says slowly. "That the misinterpretation Dumbledore made of Black's character was in ever believing that he could be working for the light."

"You admit he's fallible, then?" Cicero snaps her fingers. "You admit he can make mistakes- good, let's hope the prosecution does that, I love it when people hang themselves by trying to be clever."

"And if the prosecution don't go for that?" Empson asks. "If instead they say: 'Lily Potter told Albus Dumbledore that Sirius Black was the secret keeper. James Potter told Dumbledore that Sirius Black was the secret keeper. Sirius Black told Albus Dumbledore that Sirius Black was the Secret Keeper. Is it not a logical assumption to make that Sirius Black was in fact the Secret Keeper and every word that comes out of his mouth is lies?' What do you do then?"

"Suggest veritiserum."

"Not a good idea." Empson says, shaking his head. "Once there's veritiserum in the defendant, the prosecutors control the game. They can ask whatever they want- 'Sirius Black, did you ever threaten to kill James Potter?'- Yes, of course he as at some point, we all threaten to kill our friends at some point- we never mean it but the prosecutor won't give him a chance to explain the context."

Cicero sits back, drumming her fingers on the table. "But all I'd have to do is ask him whether or not he was a death eater and the answer would be in the negative, if he were the secret keeper and the answer would be negative-"

"You are working on the assumption that what he's told Mrs Potter is true." Empson says quietly. "There's a chance that he isn't. And if it's discovered he's lying, the reputations of everyone involved in proclaiming his innocence will be irreversibly shattered. We avoid veritiserum at all costs."

"Three people could tell me that the colours for Gryffindor House are Green and Silver." Cicero says slowly. "That doesn't mean that they are."

"Indeed. And perhaps Dumbledore himself is lying. After all, it's a well known fact that he attempted to hide the Boy Who Lived with muggle relatives rather than give him to his grandparents. One can be assured that Sirius Black would have fought heart and soul for his right to his best friend's son- as per James and Lily Potter's will- perhaps Dumbledore wanted Sirius out of the way so he would have one less opponent when it came to the custody of Harry James Potter."

Cicero stops and stares at him. "Do you really think that's what he was trying to do? Gain control over Harry's future?"

"Dumbledore? No." Empson snorted. "Not consciously at any rate- he had to explain his actions to a very pissed off Dorea Potter nee Black and her equally pissed off, if slightly less likely to shove a wand up Dumbledore's nose, husband- and the story he gave was that he suspected that Lily had given Harry blood protection when she died for him, and that living with her relatives would keep this blood protection Harry has going- and therefore keep Harry safe- until he comes of age. It was more detailed than that, of course, detailed enough to be true. He assumed Dorea and Charlus would see it his way- that they would sacrifice their part in his life to see him safe- but as Dorea pointed out, Harry would be a lot safer with two grown, magically powerful, magically adept people looking after him than two muggles who would have no chance against a death eater if one came calling. Posturing," he says. "It's all about posturing- convince the Wizengamot that having Sirius about will be better for the boy who lived, and chances are you'll have secured a majority not guilty verdict. Even if you haven't, convince people that Dumbledore may not have the Boy who Lived's welfare at heart and you'll have dented his reputation enough that they'll no longer take all his statements at face value."

Cicero nods. "So we've provisionally dealt with Dumbledore." She says. "And I'll explain Sirius' version of the confrontation on muggle street as clearly and as simply as possible. There is, however, one major problem with the suggestion that Peter framed Sirius."

"What's that?" Empson frowns

"It's clever." Cicero says grimly. "And everyone says that Pettigrew wasn't clever."

"Isn't." Empson says. "Pettigrew _isn't_ clever. If you believe Sirius' story, you think Pettigrew is alive, and you refer to him in the present tense."

"Sirius will be kissed if we lose the trial. Sirius will be kissed-I hope we do lose! Crouch will learn exactly what happens to dementors that try and steal the soul of a grandson of mine!"

"I'm sure the dementors are shaking in their hoods." Charlus says dryly. Artucus has been fuming about Crouch's threat for a good two hours- more, he suspects, because he's lost the upper hand his bribery of Bagnold had given him than because of the danger to his grandson; Artucus seems convinced that everything will go their way.

"They should be shaking." Artucus snapped. "Septimus eats dementors for breakfast."

"Septimus?"

"My patronus is a serpent, I call him Septimus- you know it's possible to cast a patronus so strong it corrodes dementors away? That's what will happen to any one of those things that so much as breathes too close to Sirius."

"Good to know. Rant over?"

"Not quite."

"Oh for heaven's sake." Charlus sighs. "If it looks like we're going to lose, I'll imperius all the court members on the left, you do the same to all the ones on the right, and we'll put through a not guilty verdict all on our own. How does that sound?"

"Like my uncle's company is rubbing off on you far too much, dear." Dorea says as she comes in to the room, a tea laden tray in her hands. "Imperiusing an entire jury is entirely impractical- you'd be better off imperiusing the prosecutor in to telling the court Sirius is on trial for impersonating a chicken."

She sets the tea down. "Cicero has said she's going to ask us both to give character testimonies of Sirius. It'll make the Wizengamot better disposed to him if the parents of two of his supposed victims believe he's innocent."

"We could ask his mother to give a character testimony." Artucus mused. "She'll probably call him a mud-lover and a blood traitor and tell everyone she hopes he gets kissed- that will make them incredibly well disposed toward him, a bitch like Walduburga hating him."

"Cicero wants to keep as much distance between Sirius and his last name as possible." Dorea informed them. "She's worried that the name Black has already been enough to determine guilt once, and it might be again. She says she wants to focus on building up his good character as much as possible before even starting to dismantle the charges laid against him- grades, behaviour in school, all that. There's no major incident that nearly got him expelled that you know of that might come out, is there?"

Both men shook their heads. "Not as far as I know," Artucus said. "Although admittedly, I know little about Sirius' Hogwarts years."

"I know of nothing." Charlus says, and Dorea nods with satisfaction.

"I'll tell Cicero and Empson that school is safe, then. Aside from several bust-ups with Slytherins – but they mostly turned out to be death eaters any way. One could argue it was foreshadowing of his dedication to fighting Voldemort."

 **A/N:Sorry for the long gap-back to school stuff...:-(**


	7. Chapter 7

"Twenty Four Hours is not long enough to prepare for a case like this, especially not when on the evidence here, Black will be acquitted within minutes." Hatham stresses, dropping the paper-thin file on his desk in disgust. "I'm sorry, Crouch, I'm not coming out of retirement to stand in front of the Wizengamot and ask them pretty please to find the defendant guilty even though his wand was destroyed without anyone casting an incanti priori on it, none of the witnesses can remember a thing because they've all been obliviated and no one has a decent explanation for how an explosion that apparently obliterated the rest of Pettigrew's body managed to leave behind a finger!"

"So avoid those points."

Hatham snorts. "You think they'll let me? You think the defence are going to let me avoid the subjects that practically make their entire case for them? Perhaps you should accept the fact that your people could well have made a mistake, issue Black a pardon now, and avoid the drama of a court case which you are going to lose-"

"So think of it as a challenge." Crouch suggests. "See this not as a court case but as a test. Can you secure a guilty verdict from practically nothing, or is that beyond even you, old friend?"

Hatham hesitates, and Crouch can see the cogs of his brain whirring, his morality- which would normally inhibit him from trying to destroy a man he thought was innocent-warring with his ambition, his pride- and perhaps even boredom. Crouch can practically _smell_ the adrenaline starting to pump through his old friend as he considers trying to do it- construct a case out of almost nothing in twenty four- twenty two hours now- and win it. "The defence lawyer will have had exactly the same amount as time as you to construct her arguments." Crouch persisted. "And I looked her up- she's barely just twenty, no former experience in the Wizengamot..."

"Alright." Hatham says. "Alright. I need all of Black's school records pulled under a warrant- I want to interview all his teachers...get me Pettigrew's school records as well, he was supposed to be thick, wasn't he? You say Dumbledore believes he's guilty? Put plants in the gathering that takes place before the Wizengamot to talk Dumbledore's reputation up. Get other plants to talk the House of Black's down. Can you contact the Daily Prophet? I want the trial to be front page news tomorrow morning, complete with full, embellished detail on what Black did- I want the facts as everyone believes them to be now to be the only thing the Wizengamot read over their breakfast. You say you have records on this lawyer of Artucus'?"

"Rachel Cicero" Crouch replies.

"I want dirt. Just in case..."

"Whatever you need." Crouch pauses. "We will get him. We'll show Black up for the murderer he is, we'll show the Wizarding World what happens when you're lax with families who dabble in the dark arts...we should have stamped the whole family out years ago."

It's their dream. The dream of the Pura Lux – a world where only the light side of magic exists. Removing the House of Black from the world is, as Dumbledore said six years ago, a good place to start- they're all rotten, through and through.

Yes, Crouch thinks- they will rid the world of evil. Starting with Black at the trial tomorrow, after which he'll use his memory of the conversation in his office a few hours prior to have Artucus arrested for bribery and corruption- whatever his magical strength, he's still an old man. A month in Azkaban and he'll be dead of pneumonia. And he'll be able to have Bagnold removed as well- his popularity among the common people was high enough that he would take her place easily-

"Crouch, did you hear me?"

"Hm?" Crouch asks. Hatham is staring at him with a concerned expression.

"I said why was Black's wand destroyed? I'm going to need a decent answer on that point."

 _A necessary precaution_. Crouch thinks. _Once we'd got Black for something, we couldn't afford to have him walk free._

"The wand was badly damaged in a fight with the Hit Wizards." He says aloud. "Our experts told us that casting any magic on it or with it would produce an explosion large enough to destroy the room and everyone in it."

Hatham nods. "Alright. That's fair enough. Now can you get me those school records?"

"Of course." Crouch says. "I'll send a message up to the school."

 **MASS MURDERER BLACK TO BE TRIED AT NOON!** Screams the Daily Prophet headlines **FOR A FULL ACCOUNT OF BLACK'S CRIMES, SEE PAGES TWO TO FIVE! FOR INFORMATION ON HOW THE TRIAL WAS BROUGHT ABOUT, SEE PAGES SIX TO SEVEN! FOR AN IN DEPTH LOOK AT THE DEPRAVITY OF BLACK'S PARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS-**

"See pages eight to sixteen." Dorea says, dropping the paper in front of them. "Artucus, I'm sorry, I really have to ask this- is it true that you keep pickled snakes in jars in your bedroom?"

Artucus looks hurt. "Of course not! All snake heads, pickled or otherwise, are kept in the _basement_ , where such things belong."

"Nake!" Harry shrieks from his high-chair, whacking the spoon Charlus is holding out of his hand and splattering his grandfather's robes with mush. "Nake! Nake, go _sssssssssss_."

He produces a startlingly realistic snake noise, and Artucus raises his eyebrows. "You like snakes?" he enquires, sliding his wand from its' holster and raising it so that Harry can clearly see the end. _"Expecto Patronum"_ he says softly. A thin trail of silver shoots from the wand, expanding and shifting, swirling backwards and draping itself around Artucus as it takes its' form- a massive serpent, slender but incredibly long, and lithe looking, with beady eyes and glimmering scales, and a fork tongue that flickers every so often. "This is Septimus," Artucus says, scratching through the patronus' semi-corporeal head. Harry hisses again- and Septimus hisses back.

"I'm sorry," Dorea says, "Why do you even _have_ snakes pickled?"

There's a loud crack as Empson apparates in to the kitchen, looking harassed. "Have you seen the papers?" he asks. Before anyone can reply, there's another crack, and Cicero appears.

"Have you seen the papers? It's fantastic!"

Everyone stares at her . "What?" she asks. "It is, they've done a wonderful job of painting Pettigrew as a hero-"

"How is that _good?"_ Empson asks.

"Because it solves our "He was an idiot" problem. It talks him up enough that he seems brave and clever- two qualities you would need if you were going to try and frame an old friend whom you know is quite capable of being lethal., don't you agree, Empson?"

"If I were you, I would avoid bringing the papers up."

"If I didn't know full well that it was the prosecutor who tipped the Prophet off, I would agree with you- but a friend- well, I say a friend, I've defended him in the small courts several times-anyway, he owes me a few and he works with the Prophet, he told me that it was the prosecutor who'd tipped the journalists off. Our opponents want all this information in the Wizengamot's mind before the trial starts, and they'll probably bring it up. Well good. Fantastic. They've tried to be clever, and now I have rope to hang them with." She looks at them with a grim satisfaction.

"Do you have the names of the witnesses being brought up?" Empson asks.

"Dumbledore." Cicero shrugs. "Minerva McGonagall as his head of house- I don't suppose you know who Severus Snape is, do you?"

"Snape..." Charlus says slowly. "I don't think he and James got on very well, so it probably extends to Sirius."

"Alright. One to watch out for." Cicero says. "They've pulled Sirius' school records, but his marks were always good and his detentions were mostly prank related- regardless, it took me two months to sort through the copies I obtained, so what the prosecutor's managed to get through, I don't know."

"Do we know who this mysterious prosecutor is yet?" Artucus enquires.

"Crouch has pulled Hatham out of retiremen- Artucus, is your patronus supposed to be being petted by your grandson's godson?"

Everyone looks toward Harry; Septimus has slithered up to him and is sniffing the infant's hand curiously. Artucus sighs and waves his wand, dispelling the patronus.

"Blasted thing has a mind of its' own." He says sounding regretful and looking smug. Dorea rolls her eyes.

"Anyway, all the statements of all the hit wizards who pulled Sirius in are going to be read out." Cicero continues, distraction over. "I've not been allowed to see them, because they're 'classified'- for someone so het up about the rules Crouch is doing a fantastic job of bending them; technically I'm entitled to see every piece of evidence against my client before the trial- but it's not an overly big deal. It just means if I lose, I've got grounds for a mistrial."

"Hatham is prosecuting." Empson says slowly.

"Yeah."

"Who's presiding over the court?" Charlus enquires.

"Crouch." Cicero grimaces. "But I have no reason to object, apart from the fact I think he'll find my client guilty. There's one other thing- I'm not allowed to see Sirius before the trial starts."

Everyone freezes. "What?" Dorea says, her voice dangerously low.

Charlus' jaw locks, and Artucus begins to drum his fingers against his wand. "What rules are they playing by?" he hisses. "This is all a jumble-"

"This is the result of calling for a trial the next day." Cicero says calmly. "I imagine Crouch is playing up to the emergency laws- no one apart from the aurors are allowed near a dangerous criminal such as Black until and unless he's been cleared, for their own safely, is the official story." She pauses. "Do you all intend to come to the trial?"

There are three indignant 'of courses!".

"Have you arranged for anyone to look after Harry?" Cicero enquires. "You'd be allowed to bring him in to the gallery, but I don't think, given his fame, that that's a good idea. It might remind people whose parents Sirius supposedly got murdered"

"Remus Lupin is coming over." Dorea says. "He is- was- a friend of James' – and of Sirius- he's baby-sat Harry before-"

"Mooey." Harry burbles.

Artucus looks fascinated. "Sirius scarcely spoke a single word before he was five." He says. "I remember his mother yelling at him. How _do_ you get this one to chatter so much?"

"No one yells at him." Charlus says drily.

A glance at the clock puts the time at 8.30. The trial starts in three and a half hours. They've done all the ground work, and the three months of preparation Cicero had before now is two months three weeks more than lawyers normally have to go over a case that would appear in the Wizengamot- but still. Empson can't help wishing they'd had more time- Cicero is, to his mind, being far too casual about all of this. And if they lose- Empson remembers the hours he spent arguing with Orion Black's pet solicitor over the charge that the Potters had "Stolen" Sirius, as if the boy were nothing more than a valuable piece of property. He'd begun to build a case for the Blacks to be prosecuted for abuse to scare Orion off- and the questions he'd forced that child to answer...the answers he'd given...

They couldn't lose this case. Sirius deserved a stretch of good happening to him that lasted more than five years.

They couldn't lose.

 **A/N Sorry sorry sorry, it's been too long. As brillian as Pottermore is, there are things I wish they didn't tell us- like the fact that Dorea and Charlus are not, contrary to popular fanon, Harry's grandparents. It kind of took the wind out of this... Still, here we are, chapter seven. Hope you all enjoyed**


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